by Ines Johnson
"Can I help you?" Not only were his face and eyes hollow, so was his voice. He must be new to not recognize Liam. It had been ten years since Liam had been home, after all.
"My name is Liam. I'm the first son of this household."
The man's eyes met Liam's briefly. There was no spark of recognition, but he must have believed him because he stepped aside and let Liam pass.
Liam entered his old home and looked around. Nothing looked the same. But things sounded the same.
He heard the sounds of lovemaking down the hall. A woman's high-pitched gasps, asking for more, harder. When Liam was a child he didn't truly understand what those words meant. Now he had firsthand knowledge. The accompanying male's deep groans sounded nothing like his father's voice.
So nothing had changed.
"Is my father in his study?" Liam took a step towards the room. He'd nearly passed the manservant, but halted at the confused look on the man's face.
"Your father?"
"Yes, my father" prompted Liam. "Lord Thomis." The servant must have been confused. Liam's surviving father was brown-skinned with dark hair and dark eyes to Liam's pale-skin, red hair, and green eyes. Liam didn't want to take the time to explain, but something in the manservant's eyes halted his departure.
"I'm sorry, my lord," the servant stuttered. "Lord Thomis went to the Goddess two years ago."
Ice went down Liam's back. That simply wasn't possible. Liam rushed to his father's study. The door opened without protest. Everything was covered in sheets, a layer of dust further confirming its disuse. Liam felt ill.
How could his father have died without him knowing? Everything was as it was when Liam still lived here. Unfinished calculations on the white board. Stacks of unopened financial documents detailing the royalties from his father's many inventions. A light green settee sat in the corner. Lord Thomis had placed the settee there years ago. For his Mother, he'd explained to Liam. The piece of furniture still looked untouched as the day Liam was born.
"He passed away in his study two years ago," the manservant confirmed from just outside the door. The older man looked into the room as though it held ghosts. "Your Mother was away with..." He didn't finish the sentence. "Lord Thomis often stayed inside here for days. I didn't know anything was wrong until I smelled..."
The silence dragged between them. From down the hall Liam heard his Mother climax. The manservant looked over his shoulder towards the sounds, a haunted look on his face. Liam looked up at the man and finally recognition dawned on him.
It was his Mother's lover. His hair had the beginnings of gray, his physique carried a few extra pounds, but it was unmistakably the same servant from his childhood.
His Mother had sworn undying love for this man, forsook her surviving husband for him. Neglected Liam and his two younger sisters for him. Yet, here he stood with Liam while she lay behind closed doors with another.
"It's you," said Liam.
The man didn't answer. He didn't meet Liam's eyes. His eyes stayed on the closed door down the hall, a look of longing that Liam recognized. He'd seen it in his father's eyes. He'd seen it in the mirror himself. But it made no sense. His Mother had sworn her love to this man.
"I thought she loved you?"
Now the man's eyes turned to Liam. "She does," his voice was adamant with life at last. "We're just... going through a rough patch."
"For how long?"
"For... awhile. She's a passionate woman. She just needs a lot of attention."
Liam didn't want to know how much attention his Mother needed. He didn't want to know if this was her first lover after this man or her tenth. When he thought of his father, who claimed to have loved his Mother, he remembered that neither his father's eye nor hand had ever strayed. He thought of Jaspir, whose hands had strayed, but who’d never allowed another to touch his heart. He thought of Merlyn, who'd allowed Liam's kisses, Liam's touches, but her eyes had always sought Jaspir's.
Liam had been having a bad day before, but it went from bad to dismal at this new revelation. Even if Merlyn came back to him somehow, she would never love him. Lust for him, maybe, if he were lucky.
Liam looked once more at the manservant whose eyes locked onto the door where his Mother and her current lover must now lay exhausted in each other's arms. Liam backed away and out of the house. He began down the steps but stopped when he saw a man approaching him. The man had skin the color of bronze and light brown eyes. His face was grave.
"Lord Liam?"
"Yes?"
"My name is Emet. I've been searching for you all day. I'm a friend of Jaspir's. He needs you."
Chapter Nineteen
They'd stripped him bare. Gone were Jaspir's fine silks and high quality cotton, which had covered his body for the last few years. In its place was polyester, the fabric of his youth when he was a discard with nothing of his own. The cloth humiliated Jaspir more than anything else.
Many familiar faces packed the gallery. Men from The Stallion looked on, partly with glee at his fall, partly from fear that it could've easily been them sitting before a Justice.
A small group of women sat apart from the men. Many of these faces were also familiar to Jaspir. They all surrounded Lady Myra, whose shoulders shook with the gravity of false accusations. Jaspir watched the women coo at her with wide eyes, and then sneak lascivious glances at him from beneath their lashes.
Jaspir looked away. His eyes caught the light. There to his right sat his brothers. It was the first time they'd all been together in the same place in over five years. Jian had a comforting hand on Adom’s back as they both leaned forward to listen to Emet.
Emet and the man known as the Male Voice conferred in low voices. The two men turned, in time, to Jaspir with heavy expressions. The Male Voice's face sank with the gravity of the situation, Emet's hardened to steel.
Emet nodded once to Jian and Adom. Those two mirrored his look, as though they didn't see the insurmountable odds facing them. Moisture pricked the edges of Jaspir's eyes. His throat constricted at the sight of those three men. No matter what the outcome of today's events, this was a moment he'd hold dear for the rest of his days, wherever he might spend them.
Emet made his way over to the table where the Peace Officers had placed Jaspir.
"I have bad news," Emet said. "And I have worse news."
"Go on."
"We won't be able to recoup your funds."
"Is that the worse news?" Jaspir asked.
"Depends on your perspective." Emet inclined his head towards Lady Myra. "She's offered to drop the charges."
"If?"
Emet sighed. "You know what if."
Jaspir looked over and saw her. Lady Myra was surrounded by a number of mature women, some of whom Jaspir knew intimately. They cast him thunderous looks in unison, but as he looked at each one in turn their eyes softened. None of them believed her. Jaspir's eyes caught Lady Myra's, a smile of desire played at the edge of her lips. Jaspir looked away.
"I saw that," Emet said. "You could undo all of this with a few minutes alone with her behind closed doors."
"It would never be a few minutes," Jaspir said. "It would be the rest of my life. That's all that I have left. My free will." He'd lost his dream home. After this, Merlyn could ever come near him again. "I won't give it up without a fight. Let's get on with it."
Lady Myra's case was simple. She had been seduced away from her husbands by Jaspir. Then, once he got her out from under her mates' protection, he'd conned her and demanded more money and gifts from her. She'd gone to The Stallions that fateful night to break it off finally, when Jaspir became incensed. She'd tried to leave, but when she pulled away from him, he'd struck her down.
"I tried so many times before to break it off with him, but..." Here she broke down. The women in the peanut gallery murmured their pity. When finally Lady Myra composed herself, she continued. "I simply wanted to try and live a virtuous life in the name of the Goddess. But he would not let me leave."
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"You were trying to leave?" her lawyer prompted.
"Yes, I was at the door. I pulled away from him." The waterworks started again.
Lady Myra's lawyer handed her a tissue. "I know this is difficult my lady, but your testimony will ensure this scoundrel never hurts another female again." The lawyer cut her eyes at Jaspir.
"I pulled away from him," Lady Myra lied. "But he reached out and struck my face."
"That's not possible."
The shout came from the audience behind them all. It was a male voice. Jaspir knew that voice. He turned and the first thing he saw was that mop of red hair. Liam's green eyes were narrowed, a frown on that strong face. His shoulders were drawn back, one arm raised, a finger pointing indignantly at Lady Myra.
"Order," the Justice intoned.
"But it’s not mathematically possible," Liam insisted.
The Justice banged her gavel again. "We will not hear testimony from the audience."
"This is one of my experts, Madame Justice." Emet motioned for Liam to come forward.
Lady Myra stepped down with the help of one of the Peace Keepers.
Liam stood, slightly bewildered. His eyes met Jaspir's. He straightened his spine once more and marched forward. He took the seat and sat straight like the noble first son that he was.
"Your name, my lord?" Emet began.
"Liam of the House..." Here he stumbled over his words.
Jaspir assumed he hesitated to name Lady Regyn's house so that he kept the family out of the scandal.
Emet filled the silence. "What is your occupation?"
"I've studied the scientific arts, specifically physics, biology, and mathematics."
"Would you consider yourself an expert?"
"I am. I am the assistant to—" Liam coughed and began again. "I have assisted the works of Lady Angyla and her daughter Lady Merlyn, a well-known scientific family."
"Well-known because you defiled Lady Merlyn with the help of that scoundrel," Lady Myra called, venom in her voice. But then she looked around at the eyes upon her and her shoulders hunched once more into broken sobs.
The Justice banged her gavel for order.
"I was promised to Lady Merlyn at the age of twelve," Liam answered. "Jaspir worked the lands when he was a child," Liam continued. "I know him from the great work he did in Lady Regyn's gardens. I've seen him perform his duties with my own eyes and know the man to be right-handed."
Emet frowned. His expression asked what that had to do with anything. Instead voices his confusion, he said, "Go on."
"Lady Myra's injury is on the left side of her face. In a fight, assailants favor their dominant hand."
Emet blinked. He turned and looked for himself. Every eye went to Lady Myra's face. "You're right."
Lady Myra's lawyer stood. "Objection, your honor. The fiend could have struck from either side."
"That's true," Liam replied. "However, the strike is at an angle."
"And that means?" Emet prompted.
"The definition of a strike is the angle between a horizontal line on a plane and true north."
Liam demonstrated with his hands, holding one up and another flat, making the shape of an L. Jaspir noted that Liam got the same look in his eyes as Merlyn when she was about to explain a theory. It was the same adorable faraway look. Only Jaspir needed Liam here and now, making more sense.
"Lady Myra has already mentioned that she was fleeing Jaspir when he allegedly struck her," Liam continued.
"Correct," Emet said.
"A strike using a hand at a distance would require the arm to stretch outwards." Liam straightened his arm toward Emet. Emet in turn leaned in to Liam's outstretched hand. "Note the angle of the impact." The ridge of Liam's palm lined up with Emet's cheek.
"A strike from close quarters," Liam motioned Emet closer, "would require the arm to bend." Liam bent his arm and now the ridge of his hand ran parallel to Emet's ear. "Note how the angle has changed. If you look at Lady Myra's injury it is at an angle, indicating that the strike came from close quarters. Or," Liam aligned his own left hand to his own face. The ridge of his own hand ran parallel to his own ear. "Or the wound was self-inflicted."
A loud gasp sounded throughout the courtroom.
"It all happened so fast," cried Lady Myra. "I could've been mistaken. He pulled me to him as I tried to flee and that's when he struck."
The crowed settled down and all heads turned to Liam, awaiting his explanation of this new information.
"Well, that's easy enough to prove," he said. "I can see by the horrible striations on your face, my lady, that the assailant’s nails dug into your skin."
"Yes," she nodded vigorously. "Yes, they did. He's scarred me for life."
"Not likely, my lady. The scars will heal with an aloe ointment," Liam said. "The skin from the attack will still be under the assailants fingernails, though. The cells remain even after you wash. We can simply check under each of their nails for a definitive answer."
Emet didn't even turn around to ask Jaspir. "Your honor, my client is willing to submit to this test."
Jaspir stood, hands outstretched.
Lady Myra shrank back. "How dare you accuse me of such things and put me on trial."
The Justice narrowed her eyes. "Lady Myra you will submit to the test and if I find that you have falsely accused another living soul and wasted the court's time, I will bring the full brunt of the law down upon you."
All of the women surrounding Lady Myra shrank back. Lady Myra looked ready to flee.
The Justice banged her gavel. "Lady Myra, you are under arrest for false testimony. You, sir," she indicated Jaspir, "are free to go with the apologies of the court."
Jaspir's legs gave out. Instead of fleeing, he crashed down into the chair. He was immediately surrounded by his brothers, embracing him, clapping him on the back. Jaspir couldn't feel much joy. He'd gained his life back, but what was left of it?
Jaspir only allowed himself one moment of sadness before he straightened his back and stood. He'd simply have to start over. He could find work, honest work. There was a flower shop owner who'd taken a liking to him after Jaspir's advice saved a rare plant of his. It would take a flower shop worker much longer to raise the funds to purchase land, but so be it. Jaspir no longer had the stomach for the sex trade.
He looked around once more at his brothers, thankful for their undying support. Then he looked over at the new addition standing at the periphery of their group.
Jaspir held his hand out to Liam. Liam took it. Liam's hand was warm in Jaspir's. "I owe you my life," Jaspir said.
Liam swallowed. Instead of pulling away, he squeezed Jaspir's hand harder. "No," Liam shook his head. "If it weren't for me you would never have been put in this situation. Not today's situation, nor the situation all those years ago. It was my fault you were sent away as a child. My testimony today only repays the second debt. I still intend to make amends for the first one."
"What do you mean?" Jaspir asked.
"Come with me," Liam said.
Chapter Twenty
"The world is overpopulated with males."
All eyes were on Merlyn as she spoke before the chamber of the Sisterhood. Twelve women sat equidistance around a horseshoe table. Merlyn stood in the center.
"Overpopulation is the Goddess' design," one of the Sisters rebutted.
Merlyn couldn't tell which one. Though they were of different ages, hues, and hair color, they all looked the same to Merlyn. They were all dressed in robes of the deepest purple with accents of greens and blues, the colors of the Goddess' womb.
"True," said Merlyn. "The Goddess has withheld females from this world due to the devastation wrought by men."
Merlyn recited the facts she'd heard all her life. The words landed hollow in her ears. She met her Mother's eyes. Lady Angyla's stern face is what made Merlyn continue.
"But the Goddess also designed females with superior knowledge that we might fix what men destroyed."
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br /> Merlyn saw the only man in the crowd bristle. His muscles bunched under his linens. He was the Male Voice, the sole representation for the male population. He had no vote, but he was allowed to speak for the men. Though, he was only allowed to speak at appointed times. Merlyn's voice ceased at the sight of his closed mouth.
Her heart ached at the loss of Jaspir. Her mind swirled at the absence of Liam. Her body still felt the effects of their lovemaking from the previous night.
"Lady Merlyn," said Sister Mychelle of the Chamber of Culture, "what you propose —to designate the gender of a child—smacks at the hand of the Goddess and Her designs."
Merlyn snapped out of her memory and found her voice. "The Goddess gave us our brains and our own two hands. Women of science healed the tear in the sky. We eliminated pollution in the air by banning the use of fossil fuels and coals and only using solar energy and hydroponics. Female medics have eradicated many diseases by a simple change in diet. None of this smacked at the Goddess' hands. I believe we've stood up to the potential She set within us.
"What we know about insemination, back in the time before the Great Destruction, is that the procedure was performed due to low fertility in women. That is no longer a problem with the women of our time. We are able to conceive. We just aren't able to conceive the correct sex."
The Male Voice bristled again. From the corner of her eye, Merlyn saw his fists clench and unclench. She saw his chest heave in a deep breath and then let it out slowly.
"My partner and I—" From the other corner, Merlyn saw her Mother bristle. Merlyn began again. "By the grace of the Goddess, I was been able to identify the female chromosome in the makeup of spermatozoa."
Merlyn's tongue felt swollen as she forced the words out of her mouth. It wasn't by the grace of the Goddess. It was by the mathematical work of a man. She wished Liam were here now. He rarely stood beside her when she presented findings to her Mother and Grand Mother, but at this moment, he was sorely missed.
Merlyn's hand went to her lips. They still tingled from his kiss. Her hand reached back to the nape of her neck where he had held her to him. She'd watched his fingers fly across a calculator for years, but she had never known how strong they were. Had never thought it.